A Jump Off the Deep End
by But We Lost Ourselves
Summary: Cammie Morgan is your average senior in high school. Well, if being chased by an international terrorist organization and speaking 14 different languages is normal. But, like many normal high school seniors, she's about to have to make the decisions that will define her forever.
1. Keep Your Eyes Open

**A/N... Hello again! :) I know I should be working on 'Love's to Blame, but this story's been sitting around for a while, and I figured maybe ****_someone_**** might enjoy it. This picks up a few days before graduation, the night before the girls (and Zach) have to make the final decision on who they'll be working for. So... Happy reading!**

_"Don't let the fear become the hate; don't take the sadness to the grave. _

_I know the fight is on the way when the sides have been chosen..._

_So tell me you're strong, tell me you see._

_I need to hear it. __Can you promise me..._

_Show me your fire, show me your heart. You know I'll never let you fall apart." _

_~NEEDTOBREATHE_

I shuffled through the pamphlets spread out across my duvet for what was probably the seventh time that hour. (Well, actually it was the ninth, but only Liz would count.) I swear, each time I looked at them again, they changed. Looked a little more menacing and... Well... Final.

I looked up, glancing at the lovely ladies that had become closer than sisters to me over the years, and a pang of sadness swept through me. It was almost over. All of it—what my life had become—was almost gone.

Three days.

Three days was all we had left.

I watched as Liz bit her lip and pounded her laptop's keys a little harder than usual (which, considering that Liz is... Well... _Liz_... Meant that the pounding wasn't very hard at all). She seemed to be working even harder than usual on her senior thesis, which only meant one thing. She was holding back tears.

Of all of us, all of the girls (well... and Zach) of the Gallagher Academy's Senior Class, Liz was the only one who had dared express the feeling coursing through all of our veins. Everyday at dinner that week, she had sobbed into her creme brûlée. (Much to Zach's dismay, because while he normally ate her leftovers, he refused to eat those with a high probability of being covered in snot.)

Seeing Lizzie so close to tears yet again nearly made me cry myself, so I looked away quickly.

Macey was painting her toenails a deep shade of purple, flipping through the newest issue of Cosmo as if nothing was different about that week at all, and Bex was sitting on her bed staring at the wall. She looked like she was on another planet.

I'm sure she was thinking about choosing just like I was. Whether or not to follow in the footsteps of her parents; wondering if it would be the best decision to accept her role as a MI6 prodigy. I was feeling the same way. We could either accept our parents' expectations and embrace them, or set out on a new adventure to define ourselves without such pressures and obligations.

The latter did, in essence, sound much more appealing. The only problem was that Bex and I were both very obligation-driven people. I guess that was what was making the decision so difficult for the both of us.

Liz was decided; she was accepting FBI Intelligence's offer, totally okay with the concept of sitting behind a desk all day (once they pulled out the cookies at her interview, she was sold. Note: obtain sample of FBI director's chocolate chip morsels and test for any signs of a lace of Dr. Fibs's new persuasion serum).

Macey was still hanging in the balance between accepting the CIA's offer and having to explain the whole _your-daughter's-really-a-spy_ thing to her parents or going on to attend Yale (Note: Further investigations proved that Preston Winters also has applied and accepted early-admission offers from Yale for the upcoming fall semester. The Operatives (Baxter, Sutton, and Morgan) found this to be very suspicious). Despite our protests that she already has learned everything they could possibly teach her, she seems intent on at least considering the idea of the Ivy League.

And Zach... Well... No one really knew _anything_ certain about Zach anymore.

But one thing _was_ certain. We only had three more days.

And we only had 12 hours to choose what the rest of our lives would be like.

I didn't even like the _thought_ of making such a decision, much less like knowing that it was imminent and would most likely be permanent.

After shuffling through the brochures once again— CIA, MI6, FBI, Interpol, and every other possibility for a student as "extraordinary" as the daughter of Rachel and Matthew Morgan would "have to be"—I finally couldn't take the shared silence any longer.

I needed a silence of my own.

Abruptly, I stood up and tugged on the first warm thing I saw in my closet, which randomly happened to be Zach's jacket from junior year. But as my mind immediately processed the likelihood of such a random selection, the Liz in me whispered that the decision wasn't random at all.

Muttering something hastily in excuse for a departure, I rushed out of the room as fast as possible. And even though it was a room full of trained spies, I don't think that any of them truly noticed.

The halls were quiet, and the slaps of my bare feet echoed through them as I walked, enjoying the sound and ignoring my mind's insistence that my steps be silent.

The Grand Hall was particularly abandoned that night, though for what reason it seemed that way, I'm not sure. When I walked in, I stopped for a moment, taking a long time to take it all in.

The ceilings seemed higher than normal; the marble floors seemed chillier than normal; Gilly's sword seemed shinier than normal; the family tapestry seemed heavier than normal. But above all, for the first time in a long time, the epicenter of my school seemed _older_ than normal.

And I did to.

I seemed to be floating on a cloud of confusion and anticipation and sorrow; I was cold, heavy, and a little too grown up. And afraid. Mr. Solomon would have been ashamed. Or very, very proud.

The bittersweetness of it all was killing me inside. The feeling in my gut that I had taken all of the years at Gallagher for granted was growing and growing inside of me as I stood in an empty, silent hall that spoke stories of years of my midnight visits— times when I had scarcely paused in thought about the beauty of it all, much less stopped to smell the roses.

It wasn't until my eyes started burning with an unbearable heat that I realized that I had finally let all of my pent up tears go.

I didn't sob.

I didn't panic.

I just did what every Gallagher Girl does when emotion gets the best of her; I hid. One last night in my favorite secret passage way for old time's sake.

As I closed the entrance behind the tapestry and slid down the wall, I quickly sensed that I wasn't as alone as I would have liked to have been.

Unable to stop the sigh of frustration building inside me, I plopped onto the ground against the wall, nearly on top of him by accident. "Zach, what are you doing here?"

"I should ask the same thing to you, Gallagher Girl," I could just _feel_ his smirk in the blackness, but his tone wasn't as agitating. He sounded tired. It was an emotion I had come to associate with Zach quite often my senior year.

We sat in silence for a while. Somehow that silence was different than the one in my room. There was much more weight hanging in the passage's stale air, which was truly saying something considering the elephant back in my dorm room.

"I don't know what I'm going to do," Zach finally broke the silence and I almost did a double take when I heard his voice crack. I didn't have to ask what he was referring to; we both knew good and well.

"Who wants you?" I asked quietly, almost a whisper, thinking that if I said it too loudly, his already-slim chances might deplete completely. He found my hand in the darkness with his and laced our fingers together silently, letting the question ring for a while.

"Not many people want a kid who's had a past and a record like mine. Not many people think they can trust a sniper that was brainwashed by terrorists." He tried to sound flippant and nonchalant as he played with my fingers, but he wasn't fooling me. It almost sounded like he was reading off lines of commentary from some sick book of his future. It made me very nervous.

"Zach, don't say that. You're the best one here. You've had offers al—"

"Oh yeah, Gallagher Girl," he cut me off, laughing bitterly, "I've had _offers_." I sensed that these were not the offers that I wanted to hear of. "Here's the thing, Cammie," he started, and both by the sarcastic tone of his voice and by him calling me by name, I knew he was upset. And serious. "I don't exactly want to spend the rest of my life killing people for a living.

I don't want to live my whole life reminding myself of how to deal with the guilt. I don't want to be a monster. And being a monster seems to be the only thing anyone believes I can do. Or at least it's the only thing they believe they can trust me to do."

His deep voice had risen so quickly that I feared we would disturb others and be found out. But when he spoke again, it was barely above a whisper. Pained. Forced. Determined. "I_ will not be my mother_."

It hung in the air for what seemed like ages as I tried to think of something—anything—to say to make it all better. To make it all more fair for him. But there was nothing to say. "Zach, I..." I started, but trailed off. I felt him shake his head in the blackness and the air was cold as it hit the hand he had been keeping warm with his.

He got up and walked a few steps away, and before the words even came out of my mouth, I knew they were the wrong thing to say. "You aren't like your mother, Zach."

I felt the rush of the air as he wheeled on me, and my eyes suddenly adjusted to the darkness. His face was shadowed with pain and fury. "Really? Are you sure?" It was more like a hiss than a question. "Look me in the eyes and tell me that you trust me. Look me in the eyes, Gallagher Girl, and tell me that you aren't scared of me. That you aren't scared of what I could do." He was mad, but he was pleading.

I had told Zach that I trusted him before. I had trusted him with my life on numerous occasions, but I knew that somehow, he was asking something much different of me this time. He was begging me to lay something much more valuable on the line.

And I couldn't lie. I was scared of him. I think I had always been just a little bit scared of him. Who in their right mind wouldn't be? The whole highly-trained-assasin-slash-son-of-a-terroist-lor dess thing kind of threw a kick into the fearable meter. But he wasn't really worried about my ability to be brave; he was worried about my ability to trust that he would never hurt me.

He'd told me last fall that he wasn't scared of me. That even though he knew I was screwed up and brainwashed, he knew that I wouldn't hurt him. He wanted to hear the same from me about him.

In the broad scope of things, it was the same thing the CIA or MI6 would have to be certain they could answer yes to. In the small moment in our favorite passageway well past midnight, it was completely and utterly opposite.

To the intelligence agencies, he would just be an asset.

I knew what he was thinking.

Was that all he would ever be to me?

I didn't have to answer. My hesitation said enough. I could hear the progress and understanding we'd built between us over the past months falling and cracking on the stone floor between us.

"That's what I thought," he muttered, and then he was gone.

**Hm... Wonder how things will play out for the last few days... The pressure's definitely on... heh. **

**Lovely disclaimer... ****I do not, nor will I ever own the Gallagher Girls series. In the event of me finally convincing Ally to trade me the rights for pop and unlimited Panera, I'll let you know. Until then this will be my only disclaimer because things won't change. Also, I regret to inform you that I will never own any of the song lyrics I include, nor their titles (which are also the titles of the chapters).**

**Review? Tell me what you think?**

**~Inez**


	2. 20 Years

**_Thank you to all the lovely reviewers/favoriters/followers! You all are amazing! :)_**

**Happy reading... **

_"Yellow paper and a faded picture and a secret in an envelope. _

_There's no reasons, no excuses, there's no second hand alibis..._

_In the meantime I'll be waiting. I'll be praying for redemption..."_

_~ The Civil Wars_

The next morning at breakfast, the senior table was nearly silent. Now don't get me wrong; the room was still as loud as ever, but although we all probably needed the practice, it was the lowerclassmen exercising their skills at speaking Czech.

For the first time in months, Zach kept his hand in mine, but he didn't even look at me, much less speak to me throughout the entire meal. But at least he showed that he still wasn't completely ignoring me.

As I slapped a waffle down onto my plate, Tina broke our table's silence with some kind of rumor involving Abby's choosing day, a young Mr. Solomon, and an interference by a Russsian jousting brigade.

Needless to say, most of us tuned her out halfway through her story.

I felt Mace and Bex and Liz sneaking me glances, and I know they sensed something was wrong with Zach and I, although they didn't know what or why. I hadn't said anything about our talk in the passageway to them.

I kept sneaking Zach glances, which he always caught, and always quickly glanced away from.

His walls were back up. And somehow, with the corner of the envelope he had left in the passageway the night before digging into my side through the pocket of my blazer, I knew that they were up well before I screwed up. I knew that he had anticipated it all; he knew I'd be up; he knew where I'd go; he knew what was on my mind; he knew what I would say and do before he said anything. He knew me.

And what scared me the most—the reason why I was terrified to open the already-ripped seal of the creamy, fancy envelope and see what lay inside, so carefully addressed to "Mr. Zachary Goode"—was that really, truly, I didn't know _him_. Not all of his past, and definitely not any of his future.

But one thing I _did_ know was that he would never be sloppy enough to leave the mail without knowing. He wanted me to see it.

Maybe because he knew I probably wouldn't want to.

As soon as breakfast was over, I ran up to my room and shoved the envelope in the back of my dresser underneath my tshirts, my mother's words ringing in my head the whole time. '_Sometimes it's best not to dig_.'

And on that particular day, I was finally taking her advice.

* * *

THINGS A HIGHLY TRAINED OPERATIVE DOES WHEN HER BOYFRIEND (?) DEAD-DROPS HER A MYSTERIOUS ENVELOPE:

(A list by Cameron Morgan)

1.) Research. It's kind of important to make sure that the whole opening-another's-mail-is-illegal thing doesn't apply if the mail is both a) practically voluntarily given and b) already opened.

2.) Fear. Because when said boyfriend is... Well... Who he is... Any matter of things could be in that letter.

3.) Protect. Because while the envelope is obviously sturdy, the contents could still be evapopaper, and contact with water could be bad. Just ask Liz about the time she used evapopaper for her lab notes one day when she ran out of Write-In-Rain (also a Gallagher Academy copyright) and then spilt her tea on them at dinner. She nearly died of panic.

4.) Ask Macey what to do. Because, while I'd probably had more boy experience in the past few months, Macey still remained the resident boy expert, especially when she had been around said boy just as much as I had.

* * *

"Open it," Macey shrugged and spooned out another mouthful of peanut butter, shoving it into her mouth with force.

She must have been having Preston problems.

"But I don't think I'll like what's inside." It came out as almost a whine, and I mentally kicked myself for sounding so selfish and stupid. There were many things that Gallagher Academy Near-Graduates could and should be. Neither of those words were included in them.

But Macey just looked at me as if I was SUCH a teenage girl and rolled her eyes. "Cam, he's Zach. Being cryptic is what he does for a living. Literally. And just for fun. It could be nothing," her tone was flat and bored, but I knew that she was well aware that at the track record our 'could be nothing's were on lately, it probably was _some_thing. "And so what if it is? It's his business; he obviously just trusts you enough and wants you to understand what's going on."

I grumbled something under my breath, and she popped the spoon in her mouth again, then, as an after thought, yanked it back out.

"And considering the fool you made of yourself last night, I would get to understanding quickly. You have some redeeming to do." She laughed half-heartedly and began to eat another spoonful of peanut butter, then, once again, seemed to thing better of it.

The jar of PB flew across the room suddenly, right into the perfectly-scaled model of the a-bomb that Liz had made eighth grade year. (Don't worry. Dr. Fibs had deactivated it immediately after awarding the extra credit points.)

"God, I'm going to get fat."

Yes. Macey McHenry was scared of getting _fat_.

"Preston?"

She insisted a smooth "no," which told me the real answer was yes.

So I laughed. Even though I knew that I couldn't redeem myself with Zach because I had nothing truthful to redeem myself with, I laughed hysterically.

Macey McHenry. Actual get _fattage_.

Maybe I wasn't the only one to go crazy over the last summer after all.

**So there you have it... Just going to mention that the chapter names are the titles of the songs that the lyrics come from at the beginning of each chapter. So the title of the chapter may not be relevant to the chapter content as a whole just because some titles tend to be bizarre. Haha**

**A few quick comments to the lovely reviewers.. You know who you are. **

**ThreeFlyingBirds wouldn't happen to be a Divergent reference, would it? And thanks for being the first to review! I appreciate it so much! :)**

**You're going INTO high school? I'm graduating this year. Talk about tears. Haha. Don't worry. You'll still see your friends, and trust me. High school's a blast. Best years of your life. **

**Ahh... Cammie will redeem herself. But Zach's not exactly the perfect significant other either. You'll see. ;)**

**For two lovely reviewers... Thank you so much! :) I really appreciate it! :)**

**SLEEP IS FOR THE WEAK! Um... Said no one EVER. I totally understand, but I appreciate you deciding the story was worth it! :) And professionally... Oh my gosh... Thank you so much! You have no idea how much that means to me! Although, I do have to regretfully admit that in uni, I'm double majoring in pre-med bio and chem. I want to be an anesthesiologist. Haha. You?**

**Potatoes and Dragons... What's the story behind that one? It must be good! Haha. But thank you so much! :)**

**Thank ya! :)**

**NO! No! No corner crying! Please no! I just... I rip people apart so that they can patch themselves back together stronger than before! Haha**

**Thank you all so much! :)**

**Review? Tell me what you think? Something cool that's going on with you?**

**~Inez**


	3. You Pay for What You Get

**I'm sorry for the really long wait. I've been super busy and calculus is killing me. I hate senior year. Period. Anyways... I'm going to post the rest of what I have on this story (only 2-3 more chapters) and leave it at that after those are out for y'all because I feel like it's pointless to write about what might happen when we're so close to finding out what REALLY happens. So here's this chapter. I'll try to update this AND Love's to Blame ASAP, but no promises with the way school's going. **

**Thanks for your lovely reviews! :) they make my day. Keep them coming!**

**Happy reading...**

_"Everybody asks me how she's doing. Has she really lost her mind? _

_I said I couldn't tell you; I've lost mine..._

_Everybody asks me how she's doing since she went away. _

_I said I couldn't tell you, but I'm okay, I'm okay..."_

_— Dave Matthews Band_

I don't know what possessed me to do it. I had the pink slip of paper in front of me, and the scantron bubbles seemed to glint evilly, even though their print was matte.

But I looked over at just the right—or wrong moment; I saw him watching me. I saw him anticipating from my stature, my eyes, my uncertainty as I debated the biggest decision of my life that lay on that one little slip of paper. He knew what I was going to choose, and I didn't like that one bit.

So in one moment of spite, I made perhaps the worst decision of my life.

I filled the bubble in darkly with a certainty I didn't feel, walked to the front, dropped my slip in the box, and smirked back at him on the way out of the door.

But I nearly cried on the way back to my room.

Later that day, the girls were chatting away during the walk to the P&E barn. It would have almost seemed like a normal teenage conversation if Bex and Macey weren't doing routine perimeter checks for any signs of Circle trouble and if Liz wasn't complaining about the color her metal-melting spray prototype had turned her hands the night before.

I agreed—it was a nasty shade of blood red and probably wouldn't go well with her cap and gown in a couple of days, but I couldn't help but be kind of agitated at it all. Mom had announced that we couldn't share our decisions with anybody, and that they would be revealed in due time.

It had made the atmosphere tense, and I didn't like it. I didn't want my last two days with my best friends—my sisters—to be shaded by a looming cloud of uncertainty.

As soon as we entered the barn, the birds let out a shrill cry of an entrance bell. Everyone looked up, which proved to be dangerous, because Eva caught Mick distracted and landed a swift kick to her gut, quickly pinning her down.

Liz made a bee-line for the track— she'd been cleared for light training because of her research track— while Bex, Macey, and I headed over to the punching bags.

"So Cammie," Tina Walters's voice cut through the grunts and noises of impact among the girls. Well, and Zach. Macey muttered something under her breath just as Tina started up again. "I hear there's trouble in paradise?"

If I had been anyone other than who I was in that moment, I would have tripped over my feet at the comment. But I didn't. I kept walking as if it didn't phase me, and tried my best to keep a smooth tone as I said, "You hear a lot of things, Tina." Bex snorted and landed a swift kick to a nearby punching bag.

I love Tina. Don't get me wrong. She's my sister and she has a sweet soul and good intentions. But let's face it... No one wants to face interrogation right after a near-break-up. Not even a Gallagher Girl.

"So it's not true that you devastated Zach by refusing to trust him enough to make the same decision with him this morning?"

The words hit me like a wall. After years of crazy, irrational theories, it struck hard that THIS was the one she would hit so close to the truth on. It made me wonder if I was really that easy to read, because I knew that Zach wouldn't have spoken a word to her.

I searched through the training girls involuntarily, eyes magnetizing to the one male in the pack. He was standing stock still, arms crossed, hair sweaty with exertion. Gorgeous. And he had an eyebrow raised in my direction, challenging me to lie. And to make it good.

I suddenly flashed back to sophomore year, when we stood on this exact mat by the exact bag that he was standing by then, and he said, "I thought you liked your boyfriends secret. Your interludes private." And I knew that even back then, he was kind of right. He was REALLY right.

"Tina, nothing's wrong. We're mutually supporting one another on whatever path we take, whether it be the same or different. Plus, I think you know as well as I that Zach isn't exactly the kind of person to be DEVESTATED over anything," I smiled and hoped it didn't look too fake. My eyes flashed to Zach, and he smirked and shook his head, returning to his workout. Tina seemed to buy it—at least temporarily—but Zach knew better than to trust my lie.

As I sparred with Bex, I did my best to shut everything out of my mind, but that only made the music come back again, and I decided that I'd rather worry about everything going on than hear Zach's mother's tune in the back of my head.

After all, we only had two more days. And no one felt like dancing anymore. And I wanted—needed—to be okay again before Friday.

After I was finally released from the mind-numb the Circle had thrown over me, Bex told me that she knew something was wrong because I was losing track of time.

And that problem was immediately fixed after the whole roof incident. But that day, sitting in the Grand Hall, watching my mother walk up to the podium with purpose, I kind of wished that I wasn't so keenly aware of the hours until graduation ticking down. That I wasn't so keenly aware of the fact that immediately after summer vacation, I would be beginning a new life, completely alone.

Mom tapped the mic on the podium, testing to see if it was on (Even though everyone knew that it was. It was, after all, the Announcement Banquet).

"Women and gentlemen of the Gallagher Academy," she began, her regal voice carrying over the tables and hushing all whispers throughout the hall.

"As you all know, today was a very important day for our senior students." If I hadn't been both a spy AND her daughter, I would never have noticed the quiver in her voice. "Their decisions have been carefully evaluated by the Gallagher Board of Trustees, and are now deemed acceptable to be announced as each student so wishes."

She looked at the senior table with an eyebrow raised. "Ladies. Gentleman. Any takers?"

All of us looked around, waiting for the first person to stand and wish to be recognized. Liz, Macey, Bex, and I all exchanged baited glances. Zach squeezed my hand under the table. And then something happened that none of us expected.

Right as Bex sighed as if to stand, Anna Fetterman shot up and blurted, "I'm just going home. I don't want this life for... After what happened to Cam... After she wasn't okay when she got back... I'm sorry... I can't..." Then she darted from the room.

I'm pretty sure the silence that followed was probably a lot shorter than it seemed (actually, about a million years shorter than the 39 seconds that it ACTUALLY consisted of), but it still stretched on for ages.

I think every single senior exchanged confused glances, and even the teachers were looking a tad bit shocked. And I'd like to point out that the staff of the Gallagher Academy is rarely shocked over ANYTHING. But as we all looked around in what could only be described as mild panic, I noticed that ALL was probably not the most correct of terms to use, because there, sitting at the head of the faculty table was Mr. Solomon, looking both as disappointed and clued-in as possible.

As a spy, I'm trained to notice things. I knew that a seventh grade girl was whispering in Swahili behind us, asking her friends exactly what I'd done. I knew that the silver had been freshly polished that morning because it was just a tad less tarnished than at breakfast. And I couldn't help but notice what Mr. Solomon's expression told me— that this was evidently a struggle Anna had been having for quite some time; her decision, that is.

She was like the rest of us—as spontaneous as it had seemed the moment before, it was something she'd been anticipating for quite some time. It was a decision she chose carefully and painstakingly.

No one dared to speak after that, even after my mom practically begged for more volunteers. Yes. Rachel Morgan performing actual BEGGAGE. She finally gave in with a "Well... I think it would be best to postpone further discussion of decisions until Friday."

Which reminded me. Only one day left.

Slowly, chatter started to pick up again throughout the room, starting with the youngest girls and then finally finding its way to the seniors' table.

"Wellll..." Zach huffed a half-laugh that didn't sound amused at all. "That was... Um..."

THINGS THAT CONSPIRED AS RESULT OF UNEXPECTED HAPPENINGS AT THE ANNOUNCEMENT BANQUET:

(A list by Operative Morgan)

• Mr. Solomon was subjected to seemingly-extreme interrogation from alarmed faculty members upon Anna's abrupt exit.

• Zachary Goode was made speechless, which is a rare, rare occurrence.

• The Chef's assistants decided to bring the creme brûlée out early. (Dessert always helps ease the atmosphere.)

• For the first time in the history of the Gallagher Academy, a student dropped out of school. Two days before she would have received her diploma. (Sources suggest that she will be invited back to graduate with her sisters despite her insistence of departure.)

• One of Tina's famous movie nights (Operative Morgan was pleased to find that Miss Congeniality won the vote and that Anna had not decided to leave immediately upon her conclusion of studies.)

• The Chef made gourmet popcorn with caramel, because it eased the atmosphere about as much as the creme brûlée.

• As much as we all didn't want to, we finally had to face the music. We wouldn't all be together forever.

"Believe me, if we hadn't gotten Preston to that safe house within that hour, there would have been a 97.4576 percent chance that the Circle—" Liz's semi-proud blabbering was cut off mid sentence by our room's door knob twisting slightly.

Bex, Macey, and I immediately tensed, and Liz scrambled to find her taser. (Because while the Gallagher Academy doesn't encourage the use of guns, the taser is an exception considering that an alumni holds the patent.)

As the handle twisted more, Bex jumped up and landed a swift kick to the face of the intruder before they even knew that they should have been on guard.

A very masculine voice let out some very loud explicitives in Farsi, and Macey burst out laughing. (Operative Morgan noted that of all the languages Zachary Goode spoke fluently, Farsi seemed to be his favorite to curse in.)

"My god, Bex, you act as if I'm..." He shook his head and held it back, cradling his nose as if to keep it from bleeding.

"As if you're what? Your mother?" She snapped, and although she sounded serious, for some reason we all knew that she was joking. She smacked him on the arm as she walked back to her bed, and I swear if I hadn't known better, I would have sworn that Zach flinched. "Learn to knock next time, lover boy."

I cringed, and I'm sure my face flooded bright red, but Zach didn't seem fazed. He just smirked and repeated a line he'd said what seemed like a long, long time ago on a train. "You know how Cammie can get. She has her ne—" (Operative Morgan was happy to note that while held captive by the COC, her pillow-aiming skills had not decreased in even the slightest).

"God, I'm getting out of here," he muttered, turning and holding up his arms to fend off any further attack attempts. "Cammie, Abby wants to talk to you. I suggest you come on. She didn't sound happy."

**So... There you have it. Abby's mad... Heh. **

**Review and tell me opinions/ what you think she chose/ how school's going for you! :)**

**~Inez **


	4. Sane

**A/N: YOU GUYSSSSSSSSSS. IT HAS BEEN THE BEST DAY EVER. (Aka, easy calculus, all college apps taken care of, the school librarian just GAVE me brand new hardback copy of the 4th Harry Potter book just because, among other things) ANYWAYS. Replies to reviews...**

**I didn't mean to make you late! I'm sorry! Glad you thought this was worth it! :) Pseudosister? What's that mean? Haha. TELL HER TO COME ON! Reading makes the mind grow sharper. Calculus... Hiss... Good luck at school!**

**Thank you! :) I think Ally means for Cammie to be more herself after she's not being brainwashed anymore, but she's still scarred from it. She wasn't herself the majority of book five but hopefully she'll be back to as normal as possible for book 6! I guess we'll see in a few days. Haha**

**Thank you! (Is this update soon enough? Sorry I haven't been home before 9 at night any night this week and haven't had a chance to update)**

**Oh my mother of Sweet Baby Jesus! Who IS that attractive young male in your profile picture and WHY is he not my husband? (Probably because I say things like 'attractive young male' haha) Thank you! :) you never know what Cammie'll choose... Maybe she's still crazy... Aww I'm sorry! You'll find tons of wonderful friends! The beginning of the year is always the rough icebreaker time anyways. :)**

**THANK YOU FOR APPRECIATING THE MUSIC! (Most people don't understand anything past Katy Perry and Bruno Mars these days, unfortunately.) I define my life by songs, so they're kinda important to me. Haha. Thank you! :)**

** Thank you guys! :)**

**9th grade was lovely, once I adjusted to the buzz of high school (well, not really a buzz cause my school's small, but you know what I mean) good luck! And thank you! :)**

**happy reading...**

_"Scared that your secret might come out, and you're gonna lose the life you got now. _

_Caught in a loop and it winds you back, but anything can change... _

_Take a chance now, cause it's waiting..._

_Share the truth now. A new day will come..."_

_- forKing&Country_

She wasn't happy. At all.

"CAMERON ANN MORGAN!" I flinched at her scream, and Zach smirked.

"What have you DONE?!" It was only then that I noticed that Abby wasn't only mad. She was devastated. Crying. Abby Cameron doesn't cry. We stood in a standoff, just looking at one another, anticipating the next move, when Zach interrupted.

"...Wait..." He aimed a finger back and forth between us. "What did you—"

"Zachary, that'll be all. You can go now."

"But—"

"DISMISSED."

He opened his mouth again, then closed it, looking as if he had a lot to say before he was going to leave, then seemed to think better of it. "Yes ma'am," he muttered, turning and leaving.

And the strange thing? Of all the things I had to fear and worry about in that moment, the only thing I could think was that maybe Ms. Dabney's C&A WAS having an effect on Zach. Which made me laugh. Which made Abby glare.

"Why?" She collapsed back into the couch of her apartment as soon as the door was shut again. "Why did you... What POSSESSED you to..." It was then that I knew that I had done one thing that very few people had ever accomplished. I'd made Abby Cameron speechless.

"He knew. I couldn't stand him knowing. It was sloppy of me, so I fixed it," I explained, getting more and more sheepish the further along I got. It sounded more and more foolish.

"CAMMIE," my name was nearly a yell off of her lips, then she took a deep breath and let it out slowly, starting again. "Cammie, Zach knowing what your decision was wasn't a bad thing. He isn't dangerous. He just wants what's best for you." She shook her head slowly, then stood up abruptly, muttering, "We all just want what's best for you."

I sat down on the couch, noting how the leather squeaked so that I could make the action silent the next time. The wheels in my head were turning at Liz-like speed as I watched her pace and murmured, "You all... Wait. You aren't just here for you. Mom told you to talk to me."

She huffed. "Yeah. And Joe and half the rest of the faculty. Hell, even TOWNSEND called me up. I blame YOU for making me have to hear his sorry voice." I wondered if she'd realized that she was tapping her toe uncontrollably, but figured that she did when she stopped abruptly and held up a finger. That's when I heard the faint noise as well. It was a door away, but the breathing was still audible.

"ZACHARY! I know you're still out there!" (Operative Morgan noted that while he was probably the best agent of her graduating class, Zach still couldn't pull a fast one on Abby)

There was no response from the door. "Well, you'd mightas well go ahead and come back in," Abby muttered something even my spy ears couldn't detect, and when the door creaked open and an ashamed Zach rushed to the couch beside me, she sighed as if she had had way too little sleep for a very, very long time.

"I'm just wor—"

"No, you're just sloppy. God knows you'll get your neck snapped one of these days for it," Abby snapped, and both Zach and I knew better than to cross her again. Zach's hand found mine, though his gaze never wavered from Abby, and his long fingers twined tightly through my small ones.

"What makes you think that this isn't what's best for me?" I demanded, somehow finding the strength and will to argue. "I, personally, think that it will be best for me. Maybe I SHOULD lay low. Maybe I SHOULD—"

"This is NOT the answer, Cammie. Without hope of the CIA acquiring some sort of personal gain, they'll drop their security support. You'll have no protection whatsoever. You'll be on your own."

I reasoned aloud, "That's a lie, Aunt Abby. And you know it. I'll never be on my own. Plus, the Circle's not exactly a threat anymore."

"Not a THREAT anymore, Cammie? How could you say that when—oh..." Zach trailed off mid-exclamation, seeming to come to some sort of realization in his mind, then tacked on a quick, "Mom's not dead, Gallagher Girl."

As if I didn't know that.

They were treating me like I was an infant. And although I may have tried to throw myself off of a balcony just months before, they knew as well as I that I was becoming more like myself every day.

They knew that I was careful. They knew that I would make good decisions, no matter how sudden. They knew that I was still a Gallagher Girl. Zach reminded me of it every day.

But they also knew as well as I that even Gallagher Girls still make mistakes.

"Cammie, what did you DO?" Zach's question was more like a plea. "What did you choose?"

"I don't know, Zach. What did YOU choose? Surely not anything to do with that letter, right?"

It was a low blow, and I knew it. Even if I didn't know what was even IN the letter. But he deserved it, and it shut him up.

"What letter?" Abby was looking back and forth between us as if she was trying to figure out which critical piece of information she was missing.

Zach muttered "it's nothing" under his breath, then let go of my hand and braced himself on his knees.

Abby shook her head. "You can change your decision, Cam. You can fix this," she picked up a Manila folder off of her coffee table and handed it to me. It was thick and heavy in my hands, and it made me wonder exactly how long they'd been keeping tabs on what I'd choose. Inside, tons of papers documented every move I'd made for the entirety of my career at Gallagher. Everything except, of course, the last summer.

"Why does any of this matter?" Zach flipped through the stack on my lap, then paused at one particularly thick packet of papers. "Ooh, I like this one," he smirked, and I ripped the papers out of his grasp, shoving the title as far away as possible.

"What went through my mind sophomore year was none of your business," I snapped, trying to decide if I should be embarrassed or amused.

"Au contrare, Gallagher Girl," he let out a short laugh that almost sounded kind of sad. "I promise you, it was ALL of my business."

"Excuse me?" I flinched as he ran a finger slowly down my arm.

"How the hell did this turn into a sexually charged banter?" Abby exclaimed, sounding particularly exasperated, and I wished that I could crawl into a hole and die of embarrassment. "You can work out your relationship problems and reveal your secrets on your own time. I don't want to hear it. There is POINT to this meeting."

I raised an eyebrow, and she huffed again. "Your mother is devastated. And I would think that after all of the emotional strain she's been through over the past years, you would want to do what's best for her as well as you. What's best for all of us. You need protection, Cameron. You need to be safe."

And as much as I loved Aunt Abby, I found the whole situation to be quite ironic. My family was begging me to be safe... By submitting to a life of danger. So maybe I was crazy. Maybe Zach's mother still had some kind of reign over me. Maybe my priorities were mixed up. Maybe I was afraid of commitment. Maybe I really would never be the same. Maybe I was making the worst decision of my life, and maybe I knew that deep down.

But all I could do was laugh. And that was probably the scariest thing of all. That, and the sight of Abby's hand flying towards my cheek as she slapped me—hard.

* * *

"What is she talking about?" Zach burst out of the room behind me, jogging a step to get ahead of me. When I ignored him and walked faster, he snapped. "CAMMIE."

The last person that I wanted to talk to about my decision was the person that made me change it. I just wanted to take a long, hot shower and crawl into bed. We did, after all, have CoveOps finals the next day.

"Gallagher Girl, look at me," he grabbed my arm and spun me around to face him.

"Zach, I don't have time for this right now, and quite frankly, neither do you. We have finals tomorrow and—"

"Then we're going to make time," he opened a secret passageway and pulled me in behind him. I hadn't heard Zach so serious in a long, long time. As he pushed me back against the passageway's wall, he raised my head, giving me no way to escape or look away.

"I didn't commit some kind of crime. I didn't do anything worse than what you did, Zach, and we both know that's true." He glanced away for a moment, and I saw something flash in his eyes that I couldn't name before I pressed on with, "I'm not a little girl, Zach. I can make my own decisions. I have a right to do what I think is best for me."

He didn't miss a beat. "What's best for you, Cammie?" His eyes were begging me to tell him, and at the close proximity, even in the dark, I could see them sparkling, always flashing dangerously between deep emerald and a light olive or teal color that I couldn't quite ever put my finger on.

I smelled the scent of him— the one amazing smell that could only be described as Zach, I felt his warm breath against my cheek, and I knew that even if I'd wronged him one too many times, even though I'd abandoned him, I'd blamed him, I'd told him that I didn't trust him, and I'd held secrets from him, I knew the one way that I could undo it all, even just for a moment.

He knew what I was thinking—he saw it in my eyes and my mannerisms. "Cammie, this isn't the time for—"

The rest of his words were drowned out with my mouth, and almost immediately, his stiff, on-guard intensity dissolved into something soft and careful. As I melted along with him, I thought that maybe, just maybe, that moment was what we had both been needing.

When we parted, it was a mutual decision. When we joined hands and walked back up to my room, it was a mutual decision. When we didn't speak the entire way, it was a mutual decision. When he kissed me on the forehead and left me at my doorstep, even then, it was a mutual decision.

And in a world where most decisions were becoming increasingly controversial, I finally understood that time was all we needed.

Time was what we decided on.

And sometime soon, maybe even the next day, we would have to confront our lives again and watch them spin out of control.

I would have to face both my mother and Joe, because Abby didn't get anywhere with me.

Zach would have to figure out a lot of things. Where he could go. Who he could trust.

But for then, we'd buy time.

We already knew it would come at a high price.

**So? Review? Please? Tell me how your favorite football team is doing?**

**~Inez**


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